


Rest for the Wicked

by Sick_head_Sweet_heart



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dean/Professor AU, Flirting, Kissing, M/M, Philosophy, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, welcome to the mikalight fic collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29465946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sick_head_Sweet_heart/pseuds/Sick_head_Sweet_heart
Summary: A collection of all of my Mikalight inbox fics with some of my own prompts/ideas thrown in. Every chapter will be themed differently with sfw and nsfw prompts varying.
Relationships: Mikami Teru & Yagami Light, Mikami Teru/Yagami Light
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	Rest for the Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> After experiencing discontent with the quality of his students for the last time, Professor Mikami seeks out Dean Yagami to help solve his problem.

It was nearing sunset as Mikami dismissed his final class, taking up his position at his desk once more. Idly, he thumbed through the massive pile of essays that sat on his desk, an assignment that each student had turned in on their way into lecture. 

He eyed the names at the top of the papers, each carefully and uniformly printed to suit his desired format. Michael’s would be too short. Anne’s would be filled with irking grammatical errors. Shawn’s would just barely meet the word count, but scrape the bottom of the barrel in quality. He allowed himself a small smile when he came across Harley’s essay. Her’s was always quality.

Looking up, Mikami noticed that the room had finally emptied. He reached under his desk and lifted his briefcase, laying it flat on the desk and opening the latch. The essays found their way inside, perfectly stacked and organized by class. He was going to enjoy marking them through until they bled red ink.

Luck appeared to be on his side today as the hallway was empty when he exited his classroom. There were no students bustling about, talking loudly about the latest party or trends, nor were there fellow professors congregating, making him feel obligated to risk his schedule for conversation. Perhaps good was finally taking a foothold on campus, sending students back to their dorms to study and professors home to grade.

Mikami pushed his glasses back up his nose and made his way outside, the fading sun at the perfect angle for the light to hit his eyes. 

He was on schedule to get to the gym on time, perhaps even a few minutes early now that there wasn’t a delay keeping him on campus, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that prickled his skin. Mikami liked his job. He did good, honest work by educating future criminal lawyers and it paid him well, gave him everything he needed. He would leave a mark on society, influence it for the better, but he was… dissatisfied. Dissatisfied with many of his students. Dissatisfied by their lack of passion, their lack of  _ worth _ . These students would become the new generation of criminal defense lawyers and prosecutors, positions of invaluable importance in correcting the world’s wrongs, but the future he longed for was in the hands of  _ college students _ .

None of his colleagues seemed to share his concerns, and for that they were worthless. Failing his students wouldn’t work either. He’d be out of a job for one thing, and, for another, the next generation was highly attuned to grades. If their grades were good, they would pass and move on, regardless of potential and drive. If he tanked their grades, they would notice in little more than a day’s time. 

That left him in a predicament. On paper, they were bright, model students. In actuality, he thought many of them to be quite lack-luster. 

Usually he let those thoughts into the forefront of his mind while he was running on the treadmill or grading papers when it was easy to vent them out, but he couldn’t shake them now that they had worked their way into his head. They were the cause of the prickle on his skin and he clenched the handle of his briefcase tighter in his hand as he walked.

To add to his discontent, he spotted a student smoking, openly blowing puffs of smoke into the reddening sky. He thought belatedly that the dissenter should have at least made an attempt to hide his misdeeds, but at least this way he could be punished. 

Just as he was about to lay a hand on the student’s shoulder, he was distracted by the loud swing of a door. He had managed to veer off-course and head towards the administration building instead of his car, yet another set back. But if he was here, there had to be a reason. At least he could clear his consciousness and express his frustrations to someone who may assist him in his cause. 

By the time he had snapped himself back to the present, the smoking boy had gone. Damn. Perhaps the closeness of getting caught and punished would put an end to his poor habits and rule-breaking.

He pushed through the administration doors and began to navigate the building with ease. When he was first hired, he had made it a point to familiarize himself with the layout of every department, just in case, but even if he had not taken those measures he would have known how to get where he was going regardless: Dean Yagami-San’s office. The man was integral around campus, highly involved, and conducted most of Mikami’s professor-evaluations. Though it had never been said outright, Mikami also suspected that the young man had played a major role in recruiting him as part of the faculty. If anyone could understand the discontentment he was experiencing, it would be Yagami-San.

Resolving to only stay a minute and hoping he wouldn’t be late to the gym, Mikami knocked twice on the door, only entering when he heard Yagami-San’s assenting, “Come in.” 

It was the first time in quite a while that he had been here. Just like his own classroom, Yagami-San’s spacious office was incredibly tidy and organized. Bookshelves lined the wall behind his large mahogany desk, which was polished until it shined. The wall to the left of the desk was more window than wall, the shades pulled up to reveal a beautiful view of the quad. On Yagami-San’s desk was his computer, a water bottle, various files, a succulent or two, and pictures of what Mikami presumed was his family, a girl with long brown hair smiling out at him as his eyes scanned the room for its owner.

He found the man in question standing by a coat rack, a sleek black suit coat draped over his arm as he turned, mouth pulling into a small smile when his eyes landed on Mikami. The expression Yagami-San wore was… confusing. The Dean had invited him in, but the look he was giving him was pleasantly surprised. It bordered on mischievous, almost as if Mikami had caught him in the act of something. It made his stomach flutter.

“I sincerely apologize,” Mikami said as he bowed. “I wasn’t aware that you were departing for the evening. I can come back another time.”

Yagami-San waved his hand and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Nonsense, Professor. Have a seat.”

Straightening, Mikami took the proffered seat and set his briefcase down beside him, folding his hands in his lap. “Thank you for your time, Yagami-San. I—”

“Yagami-San? There’s no need to be so formal,” the other man interrupted as he took a seat himself, turning his desk chair to face Mikami and folding his arms on the table. “I think we’ve become acquainted more than enough for you to call me ‘Light.’”

Warmth flooded his cheeks and Mikami readjusted his glasses while the feeling faded. “O-of course… Then please call me ‘Teru.’” 

Light smiled, hints of perfectly straight teeth peeking out from beneath his lips. “Wonderful. Now, Teru, what can I do for you?”

He was going to have to keep his face under control or this was bound to be a long, embarrassing meeting. Not only was Light exceptionally attractive—a fact which seemed to have slipped his mind in his haste—but his silky and charismatic voice was the icing on top of the beautiful cake that was Light. Belatedly, he remembered the last time he had seen Light in person. It had been during an evaluation months ago and from a distance. From farther away his beauty was manageable. Up close it was suffocating. 

“I am,” he began, suddenly finding it more difficult to make his tongue form words than he would like to admit, “dissatisfied in my work, currently.”

Light’s perfect smile fell, his expression suddenly becoming more serious. “Oh… Well, then you’ve come to the right place. It’s unfortunate that you’ve been dissatisfied.” His fingers laced together on the table and he pushed himself back against the soft cushion of his chair, crossing his legs. “Would you care to elaborate?”

Mikami nodded, taking a steady breath and reassuring himself. His coworkers were incompetent, but Light would understand. He had to. Mikami could feel it, even in the way the man carried himself. He had an undeniable presence and grace about him always, something fluid and god-like in its beauty. It made Light’s office feel like his own universe. “Of course. It’s the students that I find to be the source of my dissatisfaction. My…  _ colleagues  _ do not share my views or concerns, so I thought it best to bring them here.”

A single rust-colored eyebrow raised. “Your students?” 

His heart started to beat faster in his chest, nudging his ribs in warning. Light wasn’t going to understand. He would look like a fool in front of the Dean, in front of  _ Light _ . Before the tell-tale flush of embarrassment could make itself known across his cheeks, an unexpected sound reached his ears: laughter. Light was laughing, a soft, breathy sound that was almost masked by the squeak of his chair as Light turned to his computer. Almost.

“Never in my time here have I heard something like that,” Light said as his elegant fingers danced over his keyboard. “Let me pull up your roster.”

A different heat sprung across Mikami’s face, lighting up his pale complexion with red. Light was taking him seriously. It was such a relief, but he wouldn’t allow himself to relax into his chair. Keeping his shoulders properly squared and his back straight, he leaned as much as was respectful and joined Light in looking at his computer. 

“Hmm,” Light hummed as he scrolled down the list with his right hand. His free left hand came up to his face, his ring and pinky fingers resting on the plateau of skin just beneath his nose while his other two fingers settled by his temple, his thumb tucking itself under his chin. “All of your students are doing fairly well given how rigorous your class and the Criminal Law Program both are… Most are not failing their other classes either, though we do have some strugglers.”

Mikami nodded, feeling prickles on the back of his neck once again at Light’s words.  _ That’s exactly what my colleagues say… but Light just hasn’t been properly informed. Given the information he has, the conclusion he has reached is logical. _

“That is precisely my problem. My students are passing _on_ _paper_. They are quality _on paper_. But, in actuality, hardly any of them possess any value.” The bluntness of his own words shocked him slightly, as did the emphasis he spoke them with. Unbeknownst to him, his hands had left their neatly folded position on his lap and been given leeway to flail about, apparently as eager as his tongue to express his displeasure. 

By the time his gaze had refocused on the man he was supposed to be talking to, Light was leveling him with an odd expression. Mikami was having more than his fair share of trouble with trying to place it when his thoughts were interrupted by the parting of Light’s rose-colored lips. “Elaborate, Teru. Don’t let me stop you.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mikami nodded his head. “Of course, thank you for your time. You’re… the only one who would even entertain me.” He laughed a little at the admission and combed a hand through his hair. “I’m dissatisfied because grades are not all that is important. Yes, grades tend to be accurate predictors of a student’s success, work-rate, and knowledge, but I am not finding this to be the case. They are learning the material, but I do not feel that they are really  _ grasping it _ .” 

Discontent was starting to bubble into anger, and Light wasn’t stopping him. In fact, Mikami hardly saw the man or felt his presence at all. All he could focus on was the lack of worth and quality that he would have to deal with until his students graduated and were sent into the world to work in an incredibly important field, making messes of all their cases and leaving justice undone. 

“If I was in a position where I had been wronged and was prosecuting, I would not want an overwhelming majority of my students as my lawyer. They would ruin me and lose the case. As a defendant I certainly would not want most of my students as my lawyer.”

Would they even care about the consequences of their actions? Most of them were so lackluster in his class that it was almost humorous to think about how they would behave in a courtroom. Where was the passion, the drive, the never-ending pursuit to right the world’s wrongs and get justice for the innocent by punishing evil?!

“The majority of them are bland and passionless husks with no greater purpose! They are supposed to take this class to learn how to punish evil in the name of justice and protect those that are good, but I am tasked as a professor to base their success on essays and grades?” He was past the point of no return, his tongue loose and the deepest part of his soul laid bare. Passion and fury blazed in his eyes.

“All people are good, or they are evil. The habit is almost impossible to shake, which is why it is integral for those that are strong and just to maintain order. But laziness cannot be tolerated either. Passion and reason are essential to do right in the world. I can grade all I want, but if things stand as they do now, I will be releasing students who will do ill into society.”

By the time Mikami stopped he could feel his chest heaving, jostling his suit coat and tie out of place. His glasses had slipped down his nose and his fingers were almost white as he clutched the edge of Light’s desk. Mikami was just thankful that he hadn’t stood up and embarrassed himself any further.

In the silence that followed, Mikami tried to calm himself down, forcing his mind away from thoughts that would only incense him further. The quiet that stemmed from the man across from him was suffocating like smoke. It poured out of every corner of Light’s office, out of every soft plane of Light’s face, and Mikami took it into his lungs with every breath. He had made a fool of himself in front of the Dean, but even that would have been more desirable than reality. Truly, he had acted like a fanatic, and Light was there to witness all of it. Light had opened his door to him, even though he was clearly leaving for the night, and this was how Mikami had repaid him, by desecrating his temple. 

“Is that how you see people?” Light’s words pushed through the smoke and made Mikami’s task of breathing easier. “All people are either good or evil?”

Considering he had just raved like a lunatic to his boss, he didn’t see what harm more honesty could do; it was already fairly likely that he would lose his job. “Yes. I find it easy to determine which people are good and which are evil. Those traits usually develop during childhood. People don’t change much.”

“That’s pretty harsh.”

Light’s words were daggers piercing into his heart. Trembling, he looked up at the man and found himself shocked into silence. Light’s eyes were narrowed until they were almost cat-like, a grin playing at his pretty lips. “Is that how you evaluate your friends and associates? By their goodness and their worth?”

Hesitantly, Mikami wet his lips and nodded. “Yes, Light.” He found himself laughing, his twitching fingers drifting to his face to push up his glasses. “I… don’t have many friends. There isn't the time.”

The air around him sparked with electricity and warmth as Light leaned forward, the simple breach of his space leaving Mikami breathless. Light was still smiling, but his eyes had darkened, making his expression almost predatory. Mikami swallowed the lump in his throat; he was the willing prey offering himself up to the fox before him.

“And your lovers? How do you determine them?” Light asked, his face close enough that Mikami could see the golden flecks that swam in his warm caramel eyes.

“L-lovers?” Mikami stuttered, shaking his head. “I am not sure that is an… appropriate direction for this conversation.”

Light laughed. “Humor me, Teru.” 

His own name rolled so smoothly off Light’s tongue, causing Mikami to shift in his seat. “I’ve never taken a lover,” he said before he could stop himself, flushing at the admission.

“Interesting,” was all Light said as he leaned back, giving Mikami room to breathe. The fire in the air and in his lungs was gone, a sensation that was dearly missed.

The conversation had flowed into an area that Mikami did not know how to tread, but he couldn’t waste his opportunity. He grappled with what to say, how to transition and move on, but Light was already pushing back from his chair. 

His time was up.

He had missed his chance to find a solution to his problem and he couldn’t understand where this…  _ interaction  _ had put his relationship with Light. The man had asked him to elaborate and inquired seriously about his views even after he had made a fool of himself, but he had to be facing rejection. It was only a matter of when the pink slip would come, and that frightened him more.

“I sincerely apologize, Light,” he said and bowed his head, thankful that his hair hid the warmth he felt on his neck and ears. “I will not take up any more of your—”

His words died in his throat before he could go any further. Light was sliding himself onto the face of the desk, pushing all of his neatly organized materials aside with his movement. Elegantly, he crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward until Mikami felt the touch of fire once again.

“I personally believe in reform, but I’m no fool. Fundamentally, we’re very similar,” Light said and reached out, gripping the end of Mikami’s tie in one hand. 

“I-I don’t understand…” A million thoughts raced through his mind, each one being crushed as he fixated on the sight of Light stroking his thumb along the face of his red silk tie. 

Thin, sharp eyes captured and held his gaze and Light indulged him with that breathy laughter he had heard earlier. “I said I understand you, Teru. You may be a little overzealous, but I share your views.”

Mikami brought a sharp intake of breath into his lungs, his cheeks heated more than ever before. His hopes had branched beyond simple wishes and molded themselves into reality. Light  _ understood _ . He wasn’t alone, or foolish, or a fanatic because Light felt the same way.

The first time he entered Light’s office, he felt like it was Light’s own universe. It was only now that he realized how wrong he was. This room was a temple, and his prayers had been answered. It was Light’s place of worship, fitting for a god among men, and Mikami hoped that he would not be barred from it, that Light would let him visit the shrine and devote himself to it.

“Light, I… Thank you.” The words were difficult to form at first, but his tongue was loosening to show proper admiration for someone so important. “I’ve never had anyone listen to me before, and to have someone understand… it was unthinkable. I knew if anyone would share my views, it would be you.”

His savior seemed to glow with the praise. “You think almost exactly like me,” Light affirmed, hand tightening around Mikami’s tie. “There were always people in school who tried to ride off my coattails to find success, brilliant people who gave up on using their own minds. And criminals… they make the innocent fearful. Where’s the justice?”

This was all happening so fast and Mikami felt giddy. He was sure every part of him was trembling, sparked with the excitement that Light had injected into his body. Everything he ws hearing was perfect. Together, they would surely be able to find a solution, but their connection would not end even after his problem was solved. Mikami was sure of it. Light would still be there for him to talk to about anything, especially philosophy.  _ Finally… Someone I can engage with in academic conversation.  _ “That is precisely my worry. If my students are allowed to move on into the world, there will be even less justice. Something has to be done.”

“Something has to be done,” Light echoed, his voice so low Mikami had to lean forward to hear it.

Mikami nodded. “Yes, and you can help me, Light. They don’t share our passion.”

Light’s eyes lifted to him at that, his gaze practically boring through him. “Ah yes,” Light murmured, voice silky as the predatory look flashed across the molten gold of his eyes, “ _ Passion _ .”

A sharp tug on Mikami’s tie propelled him forward until there was no longer any space between him and Light. There was no time to catch his breath as Light’s plush lips descended onto his, ravaging his mouth until his kiss-swollen lips warmed with fresh bruises. Sparks of electricity and heat coursed through his veins until the surprise was pushed into the back of his mind, forgotten.

Mikami couldn’t help the keening whine that fell from his lips when Light pulled back, looking every bit of the fox he was. His hair and eyes glistened in the office’s artificial lighting, the illusion of fangs poking out from his sharp, perfect rows of teeth. Mikami wouldn’t hesitate to let the predator in Light devour him if that was what he wanted.

“And now we have an even greater understanding. Wouldn’t you say so, Teru?” Light’s voice was almost unbearably even, the only trace of their collision being a rosy color that was slowly spreading across his lips. He looked too perfect, too unaffected. It was glorious.

“Light, I-I don’t—”

“Ah, ah,” Light chided, resting a finger over Mikami’s lips. “Listen when your superior is speaking. Understand?”

Mikami’s heart leapt into his throat and he quickly nodded his head to show his understanding. The look on Light’s face and the position of his finger made Mikami wish that he was out of Light’s temple and somewhere else, somewhere more private. His clothes suddenly felt suffocating, sweat beading on the back of his neck as warmth coursed through him.

“Good boy,” Light said and smiled. Mikami watched with bated breath as Light languidly uncrossed his legs, leaving a perfect gap between them that was made for another body. “Your problem really is dreadful. As a university, we are failing our community and ourselves if passionless students are admitted into our top programs, but I think we can find a solution.”

Light’s long, elegant finger stayed poised over his lips and Mikami allowed himself to kiss the digit, eyes lidded as he showed Light his gratitude. 

The pleased hum he heard from Light was followed by the withdrawal of his finger, and Mikami looked up for Light’s approval before he spoke. “I think we can too, Light. I know that if we work together we can right this wrong.”

“Then come along, Teru.” Light was sliding off the desk and Mikami felt the loss of his missed opportunity immediately, Light’s movement closing himself off from the worship Mikami yearned to bestow upon him. 

“Where are we going?” Mikami asked as he reached under his chair and grabbed his briefcase. When he stood, his suit coat mostly fell back into place, but his tie had to be righted and smoothed down, unfortunately removing the traces of where Light’s touch had been.

Light was moving around his office, shutting down his computer and slipping his water bottle into his backpack’s side pouch. “To my place. I think we can come up with a solution to our little problem there.”

“Y-your place?” His tongue spit out the words before his brain could properly filter them, a furious blaze of heat rising to his cheeks along with desire.

A shiver rolled through his body as Light’s hand curled around his waist, Light pushing himself against Mikami’s back. Mikami could feel Light’s warm breath on his ear as he said, “My place. Do you have somewhere else you’d rather be, Teru?”

The thought of the gym flickered through his head and was immediately crushed by the subtle tightening of his pants and the feeling of Light’s hips against his backside. “N-no, Light. There’s nowhere else. Only with you.”

“Good.” Light was stepping back and around him just as quickly as he had come up onto him, one of Light’s well-manicured hands resting on the doorknob and a stunningly licentious look on his face.

Mikami swallowed and wet his lips. He could skip the gym for once.


End file.
